


Father's Day Celebration

by vivilove



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Father's Day, Jonsa babies - Freeform, Parenthood, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-18
Updated: 2017-06-18
Packaged: 2018-11-15 16:58:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11235282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vivilove/pseuds/vivilove
Summary: One-shot to celebrate Horny Dad Jon and his beautiful wife, Sansa, on Father's Day.





	Father's Day Celebration

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this after posting 'Mother's Day Celebration' because I need fluffy Jonsa fics and love the idea of Daddy!Jon and Mommy!Sansa.

Sansa crept into the darkened bedroom and grimaced when her bare foot stepped on a Duplo block but she didn’t let any expletives fly. She probably could’ve though and been just fine considering how loudly Jon, Robb and Ned were snoring. Ned and Robb were snoring because of their colds. Jon was snoring because…well, Jon.

The summer cold had hit House Snow six days ago with little Lyarra being the first infected. Nearly five months old with her father’s raven curls and her mother’s blue eyes, Lyarra had been as inconsolable as any infant with her nose stopped up. It’s hard to nurse when you can’t breathe through your nose after all and she’d already figured out that the baby blue bulb aspirator was her mortal enemy. She would squirm and jerk her head around as though her young life depended on it when anyone came near her with it. But thankfully, she was on the mend and had finally slept well last night.

Sansa had already snuck in to her room, sliding up to the crib as silent as a ghost to observe their infant daughter who slumbered peacefully now, her nose clear at last. _Hallelujah_.

Ned was five and his little brother, Robb, were normally both as active as any healthy five and four-year-old boys you could name. But the boys had been pitiful during the height of their fevers the past two days and only wanted to be held.

Sansa had desperately needed sleep last night between caring for the three children this past week. Jon probably needed it, too, but he’d insisted that she go to their bed around midnight and he could lay with the little boys wanting to be snuggled and held. Other than nursing which he couldn’t do obviously (and Jon Snow could heat up a bottle of breast milk and give it to their daughter as competently as anyone when Sansa wasn’t there), Jon pitched in around the house and with the children all the live-long day. This week had been no exception.

Sansa peered down at her three guys laying in Ned’s twin bed all together. Jon couldn’t possibly be comfortable, she decided. Robb’s foot was in his face as the boy had somehow managed to burrow under the covers like a rabbit with his head near his father’s hip. And Ned was right in Jon’s ear snoring with a little arm thrown across his father’s neck. But Jon had an arm wrapped protectively around both precious boys on the small bed and Sansa felt all warm and gooey inside at the mere sight of them.

She looked closely at Jon whose mouth was hanging wide open with his snores. He looked exhausted but handsome even in this state. Thirty-three years old and a father of three, her husband and still the handsomest of men in her eyes. And, today was Father’s Day.

 _Shit! I totally forgot!_ Sansa thought with shame and alarm. She knew he wouldn’t care whether or not there was a card or gift waiting for him. The past week had been difficult to say the least. _Still, I want to do something for him, to let him know how much I love and appreciate him_.

She gazed at her husband and wondered what he might want. She thought of their three little children, all born in January of their respective years and how they’d learned of their expected little bundles on Mother’s Day each time. And then she thought of how they’d celebrated that…with passionate, early morning sex…on their bathroom countertop.

Sansa felt a familiar stirring. Since Lyarra’s birth, sex had been something of a trial to fit in around the rest of their busy lives. Something hot but hurried. And it wasn’t happening nearly as often as either of them would like.

But this morning, perhaps, while little ones were sleeping, that could be different.

“Jon,” she whispered in his ear avoiding Robb’s little socked foot.

His rich brown eyes fluttered open and he gave her a sleepy smile. “Did you sleep alright, my sweet girl?” he asked. “Did Lyarra keep you up?”

“I slept very well, thank you. She’s been sleeping soundly since 2AM and we were only up about a half hour for her to nurse then.”

“That’s good.”

“How were the boys?”

“A rough night,” he said while squinting towards the clock on the bedside table. He couldn’t see it so well without his glasses. “Both sleeping since 4:30 though.”

4:30. It was only 6. _Maybe I should just let him sleep_. But the boys slept on and she wanted to at least make the suggestion.

“Happy Father’s Day,” she said softly.

“Thank you,” he replied.

“I had thought of celebrating with you while the children are asleep…but I understand if you’re too tired,” she said suggestively.

His eyes lit up and a boyish grin formed on his face. “I’m not too tired to celebrate with you.”

Extracting himself from the sleeping children was a feat but one, as an experienced parent, he was capable of and he soon had Robb tucked into his own twin bed (burrowed beneath his covers naturally) and Ned was alone in his own bed once more.

They then sprinted down the hall to their bedroom, their hands clasped and quietly giggling like teenagers sneaking off for sex after school in the backseat of his car again. They reached their room and closed and locked the door with silent solemnity, desperate not to wake a sleeping child now.

He reached for her, hastily pulling off his old t-shirt that she slept in all while she lavished him with sweet, hot kisses along his bearded chin and cheeks, stopping only long enough for him to pull the shirt over her head. It was almost clock-work in its perfection, this assisted stripping of the other while still kissing. They’d had much practice over the years.

When they were both bare, Jon grasped her by her hips and lifted her. He urged her to put her legs around his waist. The bed was right there…but Jon had other ways to celebrate in mind.

Sansa stifled a screech at the cool, hard press of solid wall against her back and then moaned at the stretching sensation of Jon’s cock entering her, a blissfully sweet though urgent feeling. His groan sounded more like a sob as he filled her.

He had been looking down, watching the joining of their bodies but, when he lifted his gaze to her again, their eyes met for a heated moment or two before their mouths clashed eagerly together again, lips, tongues and teeth.

Passion took over and there would be no going slow now. Sansa held him firmly by the shoulders and bit back her loud cries as he fucked her hard and fast into the wall. His eyes were intense as he watched her face and made her want it that much more. There’d be marks for days to follow from where he gripped her so tightly and she did not care.

“Jon,” she whimpered, “Don’t stop.” _I wanted to take our time and savor this_ , she thought briefly but it was too good to stop now. “Harder,” she begged instead.

He grunted in response and now their closet door nearby gave a little thump with every thrust and the pictures on the wall rattled.

“Fuck, Sansa,” he ground out between clenched teeth as she ceased trying to smother her moans.

“ _Ohhh_ …Jon…touch me.” He pushed her more securely to the wall and snaked one hand between them to bring her to her climax, deftly rubbing her clit. “Right there. Don’t fucking stop,” she cried next as she felt that delightful flicker of heat spread like wildfire inside.

“That’s right. I won’t stop. I love… _uhhh_ …to watch you… _unnn_ …come for me…my wife. God, you are so fucking hot.”

The heat became a flame, burning her up and setting her free…like falling from far above without the sudden impact. She nearly screamed in her joy as the waves of her orgasm rocked her core.

She welcomed the release with her panted words, “Jon…I’m going to… _ahhh_ …I’m coming, Jon! Fuck, baby…I’m coming! _Unnn_ …YES! YES!”

“Sansa…fuck! You’re so…God…you’re so beautiful… _unnn_ …when you come. FUCK! YES!” he shouted as he followed her over the precipice and slammed into her one last time with a strangled roar.

Her arms were still clasped around his neck and their sweaty foreheads were touching. Sansa let her legs slide back down to the floor and Jon slipped out of her but held her still.

“I love you,” he panted at last.

“I love you, too,” she giggled. “That was fucking hot but I wanted to take our time.”

“I just need two minutes and I’m game again,” he chuckled.

“Liar. You’re exhausted.”

“Ten. Give me ten. I’ll happily fuck you nice and slow in the bed this time.”

“If the kids don’t wake up first.”

“Well…yeah. But you know, my mom asked me if I’d like for her to take us out for Father’s Day.”

“Oh? You hadn’t mentioned anything.”

“Well, that’s ‘cause I asked her if she wouldn’t mind babysitting the kids for a bit this afternoon instead. I told her with the sick little ones all week what I really wanted was a couple of hours alone with my wife, much more than a meal out.”

“Oh, my God. How will I face your mother now? She’s going to know…”

“We have three kids, Sansa. I think the jig is up. She knows we fuck.”

“Oh, my God…”

“I told her we could both use a nap, Sansa,” he said then and she laughed. “What are you saying, Mrs. Snow? You don’t like my way of celebrating my day? We can take the kids for ice cream when we pick them up.”

Sansa smiled and stroked her husband’s face. “I love you so much. Happy Father’s Day.”

“Thank you, sweet girl.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t buy you a card or present.”

“Sansa…everything I want and need in this world is right under this roof. You and the kids…and thank you for giving me our beautiful children.”

“Hey, you’re the one that knocked me up, remember?”

“Yes, I did,” he said smugly. “Thrice.”


End file.
